Countdown to Destruction
by Pemas
Summary: The apocalypse is coming. Blaine doesn't really care until Kurt, literally the angel of his dreams, makes it real when it comes to riding him. AU.


**A/N: Oh hi there, smut.**

**I do not own the characters. **

The angel underneath him, fallen from heaven, had his wings spread out. He could hear his hungry, desperate pants caress the humid air above them. He could see his swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and disheveled hair. He could taste his sweetness on his tongue. He could smell the heavenly scent of his skin. And he could fucking feel Kurt's body react and fall apart.

Just. Because. Of. Him.

He loved, worshipped, admired the contours of Kurt's body. The way this place dipped and this place curved. He was impeccable, highly and dangerously bewitching, ravishing. It made Blaine groan and he would do anything to just enjoy the view and give pleasure to his lover, his angel. Kurt's whines were scrumptious and I was delighted to make him whine more.

Kurt had creamy, white milk skin he just needed to kiss, to bite, to nibble on, to suck, to lick. To lick so slowly and so torturously. From the inside of his thighs to his marbled jaw. When he would curl his toes and arc his back in climax, his own climax would come, and then after that his breath would stop too abruptly and he could spot another portion of skin he hadn't taken care of. Yet.

"We-w-we falle-en angels have a meeting," Kurt had said through his own uneven breaths and squirms. "I-it's abo-out the apocal-lypse, Bla-_aine_."

The apocalypse? Blaine stopped sucking on Kurt and focused on him intently. Kurt's eyelashes fluttered on his porcelain skin. His legs were still spread apart, his cock erect and flowing with cum on the end. His eyes were still dark, unlike the blue green he normally displayed. They could only hear their own heavy breaths, painting the atmosphere with sultry sex.

Now, _that _was precisely Blaine's idea of his _own _apocalypse.

"A meeting?" Blaine leaned down and entirely covered Kurt's body with his. "The apocalypse?" He played with a few feathers on both of his wings. "Didn't know it was true," he murmured, nudging his cock onto Kurt's hole, searching for some response for that in his face.

"S-s-sure it is." Kurt shuddered and so did his wings. Blaine enjoyed the sight of it, the sight of _this_. "The world is actually already batshit crazy these d-days, a-already apocalypt-tic."

Blaine slowly slid in halfway. "Mmm." He brought his mouth to Kurt's, offering his tongue and swirling it with his lover's. He then shoved in again, full, whole. Kurt moaned and so did he.

He started sliding in and out in a slow pace, even and careful. After the tenth time, he abruptly quickened. Kurt gasped, whining again and fuck he was just the sexiest, most gorgeous creature Blaine had ever seen.

He met his thrusts in perfect precision. Until he rolled them over and was already straddling him. Blaine's back was now on the wooden floor and the angel above him was a natural fucking sex machine.

Kurt fucked himself on Blaine's cock, and Blaine could see it disappear and reappear under the angel's sweet, sweet hole. He was about to thrust upwards in return but Kurt utterly left his cock, but was still in the same position sans the straddling. Kurt bent down and momentarily tangled his slender fingers in Blaine's mop of unruly curls.

He whispered, "You know," and Blaine whimpered because _Kurtkurtkurt_, "I think we should just make our own demise."

"God, Kurt." Blaine was impatient and needy.

"There's no god here tonight, Blaine." Kurt was teasing Blaine and himself as he rotated his open hole around the wet tip of Blaine's cock. "But maybe I can be your sex god until the world ends."

"Shit, Kurt. Bullshit." Blaine didn't think of it; his hands were on autopilot as they shoved Kurt down on him. Kurt screamed and his eyes were rolling back.

He was in heaven, no doubt.

Kurt pleasured himself on Blaine's tool, ripping himself open and apart with it. His face was tilted toward the ceiling, and his wings were the widest they could ever get. All Blaine saw besides Kurt were the blurred walls. They looked like they were breaking down to him, and he knew Kurt could do that even with just pleasuring himself. The image never went away.

The otherworldly fallen angel came apart, and the captivated mortal in love with him also reached his own mind-blowing Armageddon.


End file.
